


Challenging Perceptions

by L56895



Series: 2010 Writings [8]
Category: Harvey (1950)
Genre: F/M, Mention of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L56895/pseuds/L56895
Summary: Sanderson and Kelly find themselves alone at the end of the day.





	Challenging Perceptions

Before Ruth left the sanatorium at the end of the day she turned off all the lights in the foyer; the night nurses tended to keep to the upper rooms and the light was distracting for Herman when he was on his rounds.  
  
But when the room around her was black she noticed a thin trail of light coming from underneath Doctor Sanderson's office. She sighed and stepped towards the door, bracing herself for the onslaught of sarcasm that would await her if he was still there.  
  
She opened the door slowly, knocking gently before opening it fully.  
  
"Doctor? Are you still here?" she asked gently and was greeted with a brief silence.  
  
"Come in Ruth," the voice of Doctor Sanderson, warm and low, greeted her after a few moments and she sighed, stepping inside.  
  
If she was expecting him to insult her, or berate her for disturbing him, she was surprised; she found him lying back in his chaise lounge, a glass of whiskey settled on a stool next to him. He had covered his eyes with his hand but when she stepped forward he peered through his fingers at her a sighed wearily.  
  
"What’s wrong?" she murmured, a wave of concern for this man, usually so abrupt, washed over her.  
  
"Come sit, Miss Kelly," he picked his glass up from the stool and patted it gently for her to sit. She obeyed reluctantly, watching him carefully. He let his arm fall down to his side and looked up at her as she sat, reaching out for her hand.  
  
"Miss Kelly-" he whispered, but she cut him off, pulling her hand away as if she had been shocked.  
  
"Doctor Sanderson, what are you doing?" she snapped.  
  
"I’m sorry," he whispered, swinging his legs over the edge of the lounger to lean forward, propping himself up on his knees.  
  
"I should go home," she said quickly, "Goodnight, Doctor."  
  
She turned away from him and hurried to the door, felt the strange comfort of the cold metal door handle. The feeling anchoring her into a situation that felt so much like a dream.  
  
"Miss Kelly, please stay," he said softly, and when she turned round he was standing, his face openly pained, "I would enjoy your company tonight."  
  
"Why?" she frowned, "What is tonight?"  
  
She immediately regretting asking, for his face crumpled and he held his hand to his forehead. Seeing his distress she hurried over, placing a comforting hand on his back and directing him to sit down.  
  
"Doctor," she took a more comfortable seat, placing it down next to him, "What's wrong?"  
  
He sighed and screwed up his eyes, hammering his forehead lightly with his fist. She held his arm still to stop him and reached out to turn his face towards her.  
  
"What is tonight?"  
  
"My wife... she's been dead three years now," he whispered, opening his eyes so that Ruth was hit with the full force of his pain, "Today was the day-"  
  
He was cut off by a sob and Ruth slid off her chair to kneel before him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking the short hairs at the back of his neck gently.  
  
“Lyman… I’m sorry,” she whispered, forgetting her self-resolution to remain aloof and formal around him at all times, “I had no idea.”  
  
“No,” he murmured back, closing his eyes gently and sighing, “I’m sorry…”  
  
“What for, Lyman?” she cocked her head to the side but his eyes remained steadfastly closed and his head lowered.  
  
“For treating you so badly when we’re here… there’s no excuse,” he whispered. He opened his eyes slowly and reached up to cup her cheek; she started slightly but didn’t pull away, instead leaning into his palm.  
  
“It’s alright, I understand now… How difficult it must for you working here,” she murmured and for a moment neither one of them spoke, the silence enveloping them.  
  
He took her by surprise when he kissed her; bringing his other hand up to cup her face and pressing his lips to hers hungrily. For a moment she stayed there, paralysed, until she felt his tongue slip past her lips to explore her mouth and she pulled back in shock.  
  
"Lyman!" she gasped, slipping slightly from her chair and she started backwards. She glared back at him but found her anger was short-lived when he buried his face in his hands.  
  
"I’m sorry, Miss Kelly," he whispered and looked up at her, "I'm so sorry."  
  
She made no resistance when he reached out to clasp her hands in his own and bowed his head.  
  
"Lyman, I’m sorry, I just don't think it's a good idea," she replied quietly and he nodded his head understandingly, looking up at her. He released one of her hands and reached up to touch her cheek.  
  
"I’m sorry," he breathed, "I just thought feeling close to someone would stop it from hurting."  
  
"That wouldn't have stopped it, Lyman," she whispered, "Only stalled it for a while."  
  
He laughed quietly and let go of her hand, reaching up to rub his face.  
  
"You’ve been working for me too long, Kelly," he muttered, "You could probably tell me more about myself than I could."  
  
"No, Doctor," she murmured in protest and reached up to cup his cheek, "I couldn't tell you how you're supposed to feel or what you should be thinking," she paused, bit her lip, "I could only tell you how strong I think you are. Even if it's partly an act, I admire you for how well you cope with this job."  
  
He shrugged and his lips curled into a genuine smile.  
  
"It’s just a job, Miss Kelly. I’m used to everything that goes on in here," he frowned slightly, "It's a welcome distraction."  
  
"What is it you do outside of work, Lyman?" she asked quietly, cocking her head inquisitively. He shrugged.  
  
"Not much these days," he said, slightly sadly, "I never seem to have the energy after work."  
  
"Well, what is it you used to do?"  
  
He leaned back slightly and exhaled thoughtfully.  
  
"I used to dance. Adele, my wife, never really liked the bars in town, but she liked to dance. I’ve missed that."  
  
"See?" she smiled gently, "I didn't know you like to dance."  
  
He leaned forward slightly and smiled at her. Instinctively, she leant in closer still and watched as his lips twisted in to a thoughtful, sad smile.  
  
"Do you like dancing, Miss Kelly?"  
  
She nodded gently and looked down at her lap. It was a fond memory, of life in a simpler time, and she found herself overcome with embarrassment at the giddy look she was sure was plastered over her face.  
  
"Oh, yes, my friends and I used to go dancing every week when we were girls," she looked up and he was still smiling at her fondly.  
  
"Would you like to go dancing with me some time, Miss Kelly?"  
  
"Oh," she breathed, "I... well..."  
  
His smile faded slightly as she stammered and he shook his head.  
  
"I’m sorry, forget I asked. I understand, professional distance is important," he said sadly.  
  
"No! I mean, I would love to," she smiled at him and touched his cheek to make him face her, "But I don't want to take away from your tradition, if it reminds you of your wife."  
  
"I could do with a new tradition, Ruth," he whispered, "Get your coat. Charlie's should still be open."

 


End file.
